This week: creepy lyrics, pernicious auctions, and the joy of bad TV.
- Emily Nussbaum’s confession to “hate-watching” Smash cracks me up. It might not be a particularly justifiable pleasure, and in my experience, that kind of thing burns out rather quickly, but damn, is it ever fun while it lasts.
- Jerry Saltz, New York magazine’s art critic, rails against art auctions like the one that recently sold off Edward Munch’s 1895 Scream pastel. It’s interesting, but the angry idealism seems a bit over the top.
- The New Yorker‘s art editor has a new book featuring some of the magazine’s rejected cover art proposals, and she’s also posted many of the ideas online. It’s all fascinating—a good way to burn a ridiculous amount of time without even realizing it. (Via The Gothamist.)
- Alyssa Rosenberg’s analysis of boy band lyrics—comparing ’90s-era songs to some new ones—makes some great points and highlights some truly twisted lines.
- Little Japanese girls sing about the wonders of vegetables. I love it.
Much Review About Nothing 